Demon's Humming
by Rima-chan
Summary: Uchiha Itachi, an unsuccessful writer, moves in with Suzuki Tomoko, a girl who's most prized phrase is "None of your business" - a move considered idiotic by everyone around him. Seemingly the only thing these two have in common is their love for pizza, but as time goes on he finds out that Tomoko has a much bigger purpose in Tokyo. Perhaps he can write a new book after all.
1. Overture

1.

"Itachi, you sure about this?"

He shook his head and sighed. Kisame groaned and leaned back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Then how about not moving in with a stranger? Mikoto is going to cut me up if she hears that this happened under my watch!" The train barely made any noise as it moved along the railway at an astonishing speed.

Itachi's mouth twitched, "Then shall I call you sashimi from now on?"

Kisame took a large sip from beer, "I'm serious, what if she turns out to be a serial killer…or worse…she is actually a _he_?!" he shuddered as an embarrassing childhood memory emerged from the deepest pits of his mind.

"Since your priorities are in the right order, I'm grateful to have you as my friend."

The so called friend waved his hand nonchalantly, "Your mother already strongly believes that we're getting married soon," a sly grin spread on his face, "then again, the ladies love this kind of kinky stuff."

The remark seemed to pique Itachi's interest, "Speaking of kinky, why are you coming all the way to Tokyo with me?"

Kisame groaned and struck a dramatic pose, "Mikoto's influence is eternal. "_Better make sure Itachi isn't molested by that stranger!" _she said, as if this Tomoko is possessed by demons. Knowing your mother, she's probably crafting a voodoo doll already."

He wished to throw away the empty beer can, but couldn't find a bin nearby. '_Damn trains'_ he muttered and put it on the seat in front of him. Itachi shook his head, "Don't worry about mother, she's just annoyed because I decided to move without letting her know five years in advance. Most likely she thinks that I set this entire scenario up to elope with my lover."

"Eh, you have a lover, Itachi? And you never introduced me to a hot babe?"

"Oh yes, I do have a lover. She has a pair of wings and red eyes, and on every full moon she slits her wrists, and dances naked under the moonlight on the bodies of freshly plucked virgins."

Itachi's face remained straight throughout the entire sentence, as if he was talking about the weather. Kisame took a few seconds to process the info before he burst out laughing, his chuckles booming and bouncing against the walls. The pair stood out no matter where they went. Kisame was nearly two meters long with a strong muscular built, making him look more like a gang leader than a lawyer-in-training. Itachi, on the other hand, had the delicate features of a model, topped off with his long hair. A result of gruelling laziness rather than an aloof attitude, but it seemed to catch the attention of many.

The pair had been friends since middle school, despite their differences. A rumour went around that the pair were lovers, despite Kisame's numerous girlfriends. He got horrible grades in most subjects because of the lack of interest, but passed his law school entrance exams with a perfect score. Itachi excelled in his studies, but lacked passion for anything else besides writing. A few months ago his first book was published, a book he spent three years writing.

The sales were below average. It sold about a thousand copies across Japan. Itachi was quite sure that about half of them were bought by her mother…not an impossible scenario if you thought about it long enough.

Devastated, but determined to pursue his career in writing he used his savings to move to Tokyo, hoping that a change of scenery might help him.

In reality, his ego took quite a blow and the overflowing stream of ideas was reluctant.

Kisame poked his shoulder, "Don't worry," he said with a grin, "You'll settle in Tokyo in a week or two and then boom, a new book."

Itachi was about to protest, but decided against it. Kisame could tell from just looking at him that Itachi was worrying. Nothing too frantic, but the grim seed was etched to his heart. If writing doesn't work out, he could enter college, any subject he wished, but there would be no love towards the subject.

Ignoring the protests of her overprotective mother, Itachi decided to move in an apartment with a stranger. They had only sent two text messages to each other. Both of them were looking to save some money and nothing else.

_Itachi: I'll be arriving tomorrow, around three o' clock. _

_Tomoko: Ok. I won't leave the ap. _

That's the sparkling meeting of the two. Kisame highly disapproved the decision, "What if she's ugly as hell? Is that going to stimulate your genius?" he demanded. Despite his seemingly shallow attitude, Kisame did care about what went on beyond the good looks. He was notorious for sleeping around, but there were also rumours about two girls that he stuck with for a year each.

Itachi jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Kisame towering over him, with Itachi's bags in his hands.

"Man, do you expect me to carry all of it?" he asked. Itachi snorted and grabbed the biggest one, "It'd be nice of you as my seme lover…Kiseme…"

The nickname earned him a rough slap against the back, causing Itachi to stumble forwards, "Don't use that disgusting name, or I'm telling Mikoto that you made that ugly hag pregnant."

"Which ugly hag?" he asked innocently as the two stepped on the platform. Kisame rolled his eyes, "Whatever, let's just find the right train and grab some pizza. I don't feel like eating real food tonight."

"But pizzer _is _the future!" demanded Itachi. The comment bounced right off Kisame who knew better than to encourage Itachi when he was in his trolling mood.

It was easy to rummage through the crowds with Kisame's large stature that scared people away. The pair got lost twice while trying to find the right train, but eventually they found the right one and with some swearing and grunting they managed to get themselves and Itachi's bags onboard. During the train ride Kisame kept eyeing the women on board, trying to pick out the perfect one.

"Maybe I'll move to Tokyo as well. When you release another book you'll become rich as hell so we can buy a penthouse together. Or…you'll buy one and I'll move in," he mused while staring at the sky. Itachi sighed and rolled his eyes, "If you're fine with eating only pizza and dango, then yes."

"Forget it!"

Itachi had printed out a map of the neighbourhood. Kisame peeked over his shoulder and snorted, "So you marked the pizzerias of the area already? Hey, there's one right next to you apartment? Itachi, please don't go fat!"

The comment was ignored and they silently made their way through the hot streets. Kisame's worries about Itachi's waist were pointless; he rarely gained any weight, unless it was because of muscle mass. The apartment was only twenty minutes away from the train station and it wasn't long before they were trying to make it up to the fourth floor with three boxes of pizza and four bags. It was long past three o' clock and Itachi was simply hoping that the Tomoko girl hadn't simply ditched the place.

Kisame knocked on the door with his head, because both of their hands were full. There was a long silence before the door was opened by a short girl. Kisame got a good look of her for five seconds. She was slim, but looked like she worked out. Her hair was quite long, not unreasonably, but very well kept. Otherwise, she didn't look very special.

Her eyebrow twitched at the sight of Kisame, who was unsure if it was fear or irritation.

"You're late! The pizza cooled down already,"

Those are the legendary first words of Suzuki Tomoko before she eyed the boxes of pizza in Itachi's hand and she burst out laughing. She shook her head and grabbed the boxes, "I'll help you with those at least."

Tomoko opened up the door wider for the pair to enter as she made her way to the living room.

"I took the liberty of choosing the bedroom on the left, they're identical so unless you have some kinky paranoia then it should be fine!" she said over her shoulder and dumped the two pizzas next to two identical pizza boxes. The layout of the apartment was simple. It had two bedrooms, one bathroom right near the entrance and the living room-kitchen fitted into an average sized room in the centre.

Itachi and Kisame took off their shoes and headed to the door on the right. Kisame closed the door behind him before releasing a sigh of relief.

"It is a she indeed!" he breathed happily. Itachi rolled his eyes, "What did you expect? A hairy hikikomori?"

"…maybe…she seems like a potential babe. Not my type, her boobs are too small, but her ass is nice."

Itachi couldn't help but to chuckle at Kisame, "Please don't sleep with my roommate." He threw himself onto the futon and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Kisame shrugged nonchalantly, "That's why I said 'potential babe'. She seems a bit scary." He jumped when there was a loud rapping against the door before Tomoko opened it with a grin, "Will you both have beer?"

They both nodded slowly and Tomoko closed the door at a gruellingly slow pace.

"She heard me, didn't she?" whispered Kisame.

"She heard you."

Kisame shrugged, "Whatever, get up before I carry you."

* * *

"I read your book, Itachi," said Tomoko before she grabbed another slice of pizza. Kisame wasn't sure if he was surprised by the amount of food the tiny being could fit or that she knew about Itachi's writings. His eyes locked on his friend immediately, waiting for his reaction. It seemed as if she was holding that statement back for a while, but the alcohol had a tiny effect on her.

Itachi didn't seem openly aggravated by Tomoko's confession. That was a good start, at least.

"What did you think about it?"

She stared at the ceiling for a few moments, constructing her answer, "Well," she began, "I think it would've been more popular if you used a gay couple. First of all, you portrayed a more metaphorical relationship, but it would've been more intense and controversial if you used gays. Don't get me wrong, I'm not some fan who drools over yaoi manga all day, but it would've caused a wider discussion. Otherwise…" her lips curled to a smile, "it was great. Earned a place on my shelf."

Kisame nearly coughed on his beer, "Are you insane, why would anyone fuel the yaoi flames in this world even more?"

"There's a difference between racing tolerance and breaking boundaries and straight out fan service," Tomoko insisted. Her eyes lingered on Kisame for a few moments before she turned her gaze elsewhere.

Itachi seemed taken aback by her response, "I guess…thank you. Really I came to Tokyo to write…"

Tomoko chuckled, "You've got guts, really. Talent as well, make sure you remember that."

"Hey, where am I going to sleep?" asked Kisame suddenly. It was getting late and he wasn't sure if he could catch the train any more. The time had flown and the amount of beer cans around them grew without anyone noticing.

Tomoko shrugged, "I don't think this place comes with extra futons. You two can share or something."

Itachi chuckled, "And fuel the rumours even more? I'll sleep on the floor tonight."

Her eyebrow rose before she burst out laughing, "Are you going to take a bullet for the man as well? No need, I'll lend you my futon tonight. I have to go to work now anyway."

Tomoko got up, seemingly unfazed by the alcohol she had consumed over the hours and left the company of men. She came back a few minutes later with the futon and blankets and dumped them into the corner of the room.

"Don't go into my room. Ever. That's my only rule for coexisting with you."

A grin spread over Kisame's face, "Why? Is there a BDSM dungeon hidden there?"

Tomoko shrugged, "Nothing that radical. Though I wouldn't mind being tied up every now and then," she added with a wink before disappearing again. Kisame was left baffled and it was Itachi who laughed first.

When Tomoko emerged again fifteen minutes later, it was hard to recognize her for a second. The short girl in slacks emerged with an elegant hairdo and a dress from the twenties brushing against her skin.

Kisame observed her while she put on her shoes and coat, "Just where the fuck do you work?! Are you a prostitute? You'll get raped for sure!"

Tomoko flashed him a grin, "None of your business, also don't forget to lock the door."

The door slowly shut behind her before Kisame groaned and rubbed his eyes, damn alcohol making him sleepy again.

"She's a prostitute, for sure! Damn, and it all looked so promising as well!"

Itachi shrugged lazily, "Doesn't really matter, does it? She seems too balanced for a prostitute. There's no cynical attitude towards men or anything."

"Then a lesbian? What the fuck was that about your book?"

Itachi paused for a moment to yawn, "But she was right. I planned on writing about two guys at first…Now I regret that I didn't do the right thing..."

His eyes slowly shut and his breathing grew slow and rhythmic. Kisame sighed, "You're leaving me with yourself and this mess to clean up?" he muttered quietly under his breath.


	2. Pizzicato

2.

It was Kisame who was the first to wake up because of sounds coming from the kitchen. With his mind still hazy from sleep, he first thought it was the axe murderer, here to claim their lives and was trying to remember any self-defence videos. Kisame never really worked hard in that department, because of his large body the man was under the impression that one can just bulldoze anyone down. It took him a few seconds to recognise the sound of frying eggs and bacon. He moved across the floor towards the door like a cat at night, as to not wake up Itachi, god knows that the man needs to sleep, and listlessly dragged his feet to the living room.

"Morning," grunted Kisame to Tomoko's back. She cracked two more eggs onto the pan before turning around.

"I just got back from work. Would you like some coffee?" she offered with a dazzling smile. The long hours of…whatever it is that Tomoko does for a living, hadn't smudged her makeup or ruined the flamboyant hairdo. Without waiting for a response from Kisame, she poured another cup of coffee for him and sat down across the bulky man. Everything moved too suddenly for his somnolent mind to grasp it.

"You know that it's like…six in the morning? Why did you get up? I tried to be quiet but…"

Kisame attempted to shrug her off, not even noticing that the mess from last night was cleaned up. It wasn't he who cleaned it anyway, 'Not my apartment' he thought and dragged Tomoko's futon next to Itachi's. It took a few large gulps of coffee before he was able to arrange words into something comprehensible.

"I'm a light sleeper, sometimes…I don't know damn it woman it's too early. You don't seem raped…"

Tomoko snorted and got up to deal with the food, "I can take care of myself. Believe me there have been _attempts_," during the last word, she cut a tomato with a bit more force than necessary.

Kisame tried not to shudder at the thought of an irate Tomoko. There was no air of hostility encircling her, but there was an edge in that welcome personality that put him off. To make it worse there was no better word to use for it except for paranoia. Tomoko wasn't exactly menacing or ominous. Maybe a little secretive, but that's natural when you meet for the first time. Kisame decided not to rule out the psychopathic serial killer theory just yet.

"Where do you work, Tomoko?"

She threw the salad into a glass bowl before glancing over her shoulder, "Are you Itachi's lover?"

Kisame chuckled; it was a question used a few times too many, "None of your business."

"Exactly," responded Tomoko with a wide smile, "I'm glad we got that straight."

She grabbed two plates and the salad bowl and set them on the table. Tomoko sat down across Kisame once more, "I hope you don't mind western food. I can't really cook native."

"Why are you even cooking right now? Go to sleep!" muttered Kisame. Food was bland, but he didn't have the guts to admit it. Tomoko on the other hand didn't seem to care. She ate her three eggs and pile of bacon and washed it all down with a cup of black coffee.

"Oh, I know! You're jealous that I get to spend more time with Itachi than you?" she mused with a large grin while rolling around a tomato slice with a fork. Kisame rolled his eyes, "I already slept in the same room with him, what else does your heart desire?"

The cheer on Tomoko's face was washed away and replaced with dismay, "Not even in the same bed? I didn't think you'd be the shy type."

"What can I say," shrugged Kisame, "I'm the innocent-seme type of guy."

"How would that even work? You'd cuff up the poor bloke and suddenly blush and cover all his private parts?"

Kisame snorted and ate another slice of bacon, which tasted like rubber, "Silly woman, I'm more into tall brunettes…Otherwise it feels like I'm fucking my sister."

Tomoko giggled, "Oh good, then I won't need to hide knives under my clothes whenever you come to visit!"

With another sudden movement from Tomoko her dishes ended up in the sink before she yawned, "I'm going to bed, don't be too loud with Itachi, and don't do it on the table," she slurred over her shoulder before disappearing into the secrecy of her four walls. Kisame only caught a glimpse of a dresser before Tomoko emerged again.

"Kisame, bring my bed back," she commanded, "Maybe you'll see Itachi's beautiful abs peeking out from the blanket."

Kisame couldn't help but to grin at the thought and with some reluctance got up with the help of the wall and tried to gather everything as quietly as possible. Tomoko used the time to pull out all the pins from her hair, not even bothering to take off the makeup. At around seven o' clock, she always got extremely sleepy, it was as certain as sunrise. Every time when she came back from work, Tomoko tried to eat breakfast before doomsday began in order to not wake up three hours later because of hunger.

Kisame dropped the futon in front of the door and resumed his previous habitat against the wall, "I guess you're leaving me alone now? It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, yeah," she yawned again like a dog, "you'll be back soon enough, whatever…" muttered Tomoko and dragged the futon in her room and shut the door with a bit too much force. Kisame heard some rustling and some muttering before the apartment was once more silent. Save for the occasional sound of Kisame sipping coffee or Itachi shifting under the covers.

* * *

When Tomoko awoke during the day, it was because her phone was vibrating against her hand. There was no need to even check who was calling her at...well any time of the day.

"What is it?" she muttered quietly, slithering back under the covers. The world didn't deserve to see such a horrendous sight.

"Do you have to work tonight?"

The previously sluggish persona was awoken, "Hey, you sound weird. Is everything okay?"

"No, that's why I need you tonight."

Tomoko checked the calendar on her bedside quickly before smiling, "We'll drink an entire bottle of gin and you can cry on my shoulder. My treat as well. I'll bring pizza too if you'd like that."

There was a long silence on the other side before a barely audible chuckle, "Come over whenever. I just got home from work."

He hung up before Tomoko could protest. It was only half past six, not her latest. The girl rolled out of the bed and pulled a long t-shirt over her head before she left her room. For her surprise, Itachi was seated behind the only table in the house, glaring holes in a blank piece of paper with a pen on his right. The girl went unnoticed before a cough awoke Itachi from his reverie.

"Ignore the smudged makeup," she added quickly, "Are you trying to write?"

A smirk was glued on Itachi's features, "Quite pitiful, isn't it? Kisame left around ten. I came back here and thought I'd try to write, but nothing." It just caught Tomoko's attention that Itachi's hair wasn't in a braid. From this angle, he almost looked like a woman. A pretty one at that.

Tomoko sighed, "Writing comes easily only to a selected few. To most people it means tears and blood and a few mental breakdowns to complete a book. There's no point in forcing it, or it won't be any good. Go out, live a little and find a job for starters. The less worries you have, the easier it'll be to focus on writing."

Itachi shrugged, "Seems like good advice. I should go and make a copy of the key for this place."

A smile spread across her features, "There you go! That's a start already. I don't think that I can come home tonight, so you can borrow my key for today. Tomorrow we can go somewhere, anywhere. I could even introduce you to an owner of a small pizzeria, you could work there as a start."

Itachi's eyebrow rose and some life seemed to return to his eyes, "Why are you so helpful?"

"Ah I guess…I don't want you to waste your talent. I wasn't lying yesterday when I said that I love your writing…"

The comment caused her some embarrassment, she coughed and averted her gaze elsewhere, "Anyways, don't worry. You can copy the key in the mall nearby so getting lost shouldn't be easy."

"Tonight," began Itachi carefully, "Are you going to your boyfriend's place?"

He studied Tomoko carefully, unsure if he probed in her private life too much or not. She shook a little before the room was filled with her laughter.

"Oh my god," she cried, "My boyfriend? No, I'm _extremely_ single. He's just a very old friend. Just called me a few minutes ago and sounded really distressed, begging me to come over there to drink with him and…well I can't really refuse what if he does something stupid?!"

Tomoko suddenly grabbed the pen and drew a huge cat across the empty paper, "See," she said triumphantly after finishing; "Now you _can't _write today. So go and see a movie and visit a jazz bar and cry yourself to sleep since Kisame isn't here to cuddle you."

"Because that is the only piece of paper in the house?" thought Itachi with some derision as he watched Tomoko head to the bathroom to transform herself once more for the night.

* * *

Hatake Kakashi was the captain of the murder unit in Tokyo. Thanks to his clever wit and sheer luck, Kakashi managed to get hold of the position of a captain before he was thirty. Despite his handsome looks and interest from the counterparts, he remained single. The root of the problem could be traced back to his attachment towards one certain woman he knew from work. A long-time comrade, Tsubaki Rin. She was the brilliant angel, the shining gem in the dull group of companions Kakashi usually had to deal with.

They slept once, and the slept twice and even tried dating for a while. Kakashi thought that it was going competently, but like a myriad times before, he was wrong. People often are when it concerns feelings, especially if it's two people who are so incapable of conveying them to the other side clearly.

The beautiful furniture surrounding him, in a flat written to his name seemed so empty without Rin. Even if she only set foot in this place twice. Where did she even live? Technically, Kakashi, as a captain, could find out, but that would be meaningless. He wanted Rin to clasp his hand and shyly lead her to her nest.

"What is she doing right now?" he thought tiresomely and lit another cigarette.

Kakashi heard someone knocking on the door, "Come in!" he shouted, not bothering to even get up from the sofa.

The smell of pizza and Tomoko's perfume mixed with the smoke of tobacco, it was…strangely relaxing. He waited patiently for Tomoko to free her feet from combat boots and stroll over to the sofa. The ashtray was gently pushed aside and replaced with a pizza box and two bottles.

Wordlessly, she lit up a cigarette. To witness her smoke was unwonted. Usually Tomoko simply lit up a cigarette and let it burn on its own. They could sit like that for hours, staring at the dark and glare holes into an imaginative spot on the wall.

"You could've lit some candles you know?" said Tomoko after a while, voicing the thought that had been on Kakashi's mind for quite a while. Out of habit, he touched the scar running across his eye before sighing.

"I didn't want to. Shall I get some glasses? I feel like I've been a terrible host."

Tomoko giggled before she took just one puff of the remaining cigarette and put it out, "I'm used to it. That's what I like about you."

Kakashi couldn't help but to smile at her crude sense of pleasant and he took the liberty of mixing the cocktails.

"Are we doing one or two cocktails tonight?"

Tomoko seemed mildly amused, "Well, you seem to be on the brink of death so just one killer is enough."

While Kakashi was trying to make the gin more drinkable, Tomoko began eating pizza. Kakashi rarely ate that stuff, unless he was so out of sorts that even petrol as a dipping would do. When he got back, Tomoko quickly finished the remaining slice before she accepted the glass from Kakashi.

"What are we toasting today?" she asked.

Kakashi didn't answer for a long time, lost in thought, "This doesn't deserve a toast. Just drink."

Tomoko seemed to pick up the nature of the problem and she smiled before drinking nearly half of the contents of the glass. She wasn't in the mood for slow drinking tonight.

It had become a routine for the duo, getting together after irregular intervals of time to drink. Patience was the key here. You sit and wait, distract yourself from the problem long enough until the alcohol loosens up the shackles of your mind and the problem is suddenly out there. Both Kakashi and Tomoko were incredibly private about their lives, but from all their acquaintances, they knew most about each other. Somehow they didn't clash, despite the age gap.

"Rin is getting married," he blurted out.

Tomoko studied Kakashi for a few moments, drank the rest of her drink before lighting up another cigarette.

"With who? You're not planning on murder, are you? Otherwise I'll kill you right here and now myself."

Kakashi laughed humourlessly and shook his head, "Some asshole hotel owner. The motherfucker's loaded, compared to me. He's the heir of an entire chain of hotels. Amano…something. I don't know…I felt like trashing my office when I heard. She didn't even say it to _me_. I just overheard some colleagues talking."

"It could be arranged, if that's the case you can talk her out of it," offered Tomoko.

"What?" demanded Kakashi suddenly, "This day and age? She isn't some rich heiress! If I went to her now…I'd probably just wind up sleeping with her."

Tomoko shrugged, "Probably, but I can talk to her as well. Last time I checked we were on good terms."

Their words were slurring, just a little. There was still a bit time before the two of them would be a mass of incomprehensible ideas. In a metaphorical sense, it would be very similar to the way Kakashi and Rin conversed.

Tomoko didn't even notice that she was suddenly pinned on the sofa with Kakashi towering over her. The cigarette fell from her hands and landed next to the carpet.

"Idiot," she murmured, "I don't want to burn to death in this place."

Kakashi snorted before he threw the bud into the ashtray roughly, not bothering to get off Tomoko.

Really, she was too easy to dominate. Rin was much more stronger, much taller. Tomoko didn't even bother to put up a fight. Was it willingness or nonchalance?

"What would you tell her? It would make me seem even less of a man that she thinks I am right now!" he shouted. Tomoko never flinched under him. That trust…it was infuriating to Kakashi. It went unsaid that to hurt the other was never on their minds.

"I'm not that stupid," she snapped, her temper finally emerging, "You really think, that I would prance there 'Ooh Rin, Kakashi is so sad will you fuck him again?'!"

Kakashi sighed; the alcohol was clouding his judgement, "Fine," he snapped, "Talking some sense in you has always been wasted effort."

He leaned down, closer to her face, their lips nearly brushed together, "Just this one night?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

Tomoko couldn't help but to laugh, "Well well, wasn't it you who told me never to sleep with you?" The comment caused Kakashi to tighten his grip around her wrists to the point of it becoming painful. Still, Tomoko made no movement to stop him.

"I honestly don't give a shit right now. I can go and catch an STD from a prostitute if you prefer, or we can do it here."

A grin spread across her features, "You're terrible…whatever."

But she had foreseen this outcome as one of the possibilities. Her clothes didn't have any buttons or zippers, everything was easily removed. It didn't matter, for Kakashi this was a way of ridding himself of this frustration while Tomoko was simply…detached. It was obvious that her mind was elsewhere, there was someone who'd occupy her mind. Pretending it never happened would be easy for both of them. Tomorrow she would be the sweet Tomoko again and they'd both become untouchable once more.


	3. Allegro

3.

When Kakashi woke up, it was in solitary. The previous night returned to him in only small snippets, but it was enough to put the picture together. They were drunk, and slept together. It was probably the weirdest sex, because it was so void of all emotion. Usually there was something, passion, desire, anger, anything, but this was simply…an act. There was still time before he had to get to work. Kakashi wasn't surprised to find the house empty, and clean. No trace of his one-time mistress ever being there. Except for the lingering smell of her perfume.

Tomoko was long gone, in search for the culprit of the incident.

Tsubaki Rin was surprised when she got an unexpected message on her phone from Suzuki Tomoko, a girl she hadn't expected to speak to ever again.

_Tomoko: How've you been? Heard about the marriage. Wanna catch up before work?_

Rin was, to put it lightly, reluctant to face the girl, but Tomoko never omitted the vibes of an enemy.

_Rin: Ok, the usual place? You're probably there already._

_Tomoko: Yep, the usual seat._

About an hour later Rin found herself in a cafe in Shibuya, where the two had met a few times before. Tomoko's long hair attracted Rin's attention right away. As she came closer to the girl, it became harder to face that amicable nature and kind words she would so often offer.

Rin sat down and found, for her surprise, a cup of steaming coffee waiting for her. Tomoko seemed welcoming with her usual bright smile, "Ah, I was right again about your arrival. Rin, dearest, how've you been?"

The woman was caught off guard by the open attitude, "Tomoko, we both know who sent you here. There's no need to keep up the façade."

Tomoko shrugged, "Kakashi didn't send me. He probably doesn't approve of this meeting but that doesn't matter. It's none of his business."

To take advantage of the awkward pause in their conversation, Tomoko decided to take in Rin's appearance as much as possible. The resemblance to the Rin she could recall was barely there. Rin's short hair was styled well and her outfit was well tailored, something a regular detective wouldn't be able to afford. Beautiful diamonds glistened on her earlobes and a small diamond ring adorned Rin's gentle hands.

"So why did you want to meet me?"

"Why so defensive?" Tomoko's tone was free of bias, polite as if talking to a stranger, "I don't hate you or whatever delusion you have, Rin, but I do desire some claritication, if you're willing."

The coffee remained on the table untouched, Rin stared at the waves on the glassy surface before she sighed, "Look, I'm marrying this man because he is wonderful, he treats me the way I deserve to be treated."

A pause.

"Kakashi lacks the capability of managing a relationship, on any level. He's beautiful, true, but disturbingly unstable. I don't want to waste my remaining youth trying to crack him open, constantly wondering what goes on in that head. He's a great man, but…"

Tomoko signalled the waiter for a new coffee before turning her attention back to Rin, "Why stop now?"

Rin shook her head, seemingly struggling, "I fear judgement, from you. Tomoko, you're the only person he truly trusts, and therefore it puts you on his side."

"You're mistaken," Tomoko stopped before reacng out and taking Rin's hand gently, "Rin, I'm not taking sides. You've treated me well throughout the years, and I'm happy that you found someone who loves you…really. So you can tell me what you really think, because I don't know if you'll ever get the chance again."

What Tomoko didn't expect was to see Rin cry. It started with a few warning sobs before the tears began streaming down Rin's cheeks. Tomoko jumped before hurriedly throwing some paper tissues towards the woman whose tears seemed like a waterfall in Tomoko's exaggerated mind, "Jesus Christ, no-no-no don't cry here I'm sorry! Whatever it was I said!"

Rin hiccupped between her sobs, "He's a great man, but never for me."

Her crying tarried on, attracting the attention of the clerks, of other customers, and Tomoko was finding it even more stressful to handle. Dealing with emotional…stuff…was never her forte. Tomoko gave the clerks a calming, dismissive smile while frantically piling up tissues in front of Rin, "Okay, okay, that's cool! Don't worry, I'm not telling Kakashi any of this!"

"Damn, I'm a mess," muttered Rin, "I have to leave for work as well…I'm probably transferring to another office after the marriage…So I wouldn't see _him _anymore."

Tomoko shrugged, "You could stay and paint your face black every day so he wouldn't recognize you."

"…Excuse me, what?"

How to calm people down? Get their attention; make them focus on you so they'd relax a bit.

"Yeah, and you could wear a hot pink outfit as well. Kakashi'd never recognize you in that…Oh! Don't forget to wear a feather boa!"

Rin's shoulders became visibly less tense and a confused smile appeared.

"I might as well fly to the moon dressed like that," she giggled and fetched a mirror from the depths of her purse to wipe away the smudged makeup and make a few touch ups.

"What are you going to say to Kakashi?" questioned Tomoko. She was certain that telling Kakashi Rin's side of the story would crush the poor man.

Rin eyed Tomoko warily, "I'm not telling him anything. He'll look to you for truth anyway…I think that man deserves that much peace in his life." She leaned back in her seat and a laugh escaped her, "How ironic, to be his first love."

Tomoko shrugged, "It doesn't matter whether you're the first or last. The ones that'll stay with you have to be ethereal...at the very least."

This earned her a slap against the fingers by Rin, "Let go of the past already. You're too sinister for your own good…" Tomoko visibly shrunk away from the conversation, it was heading towards a subject she didn't want to touch.

Tomoko offered her a courteous smile before she got up, "I hope this marriage works out for you. We won't be seeing each other for a while..."

She was right, in a matter of speaking. Time is, after all, relative. Tsubaki Rin and Suzuki Tomoko didn't see each other for at least five years. During that time period, they never exchanged any messages or calls; only five years later did one of them reach out for the other. Luckily, Rin never took Tomoko's fashion advice and her face remained pale as ever.

* * *

Uchiha Mikoto was a sublime mother. The only visible fault could be her overprotective nature towards her sons but…you can never tell who the next axe murderer is. A little caution never killed nobody.

When her eldest son decided to become a writer instead of going to college, Mikoto was…well thrilled would be an overstatement, but she didn't deny him the dream. Itachi had never really showed any prominent interest towards anything except for writing. Mikoto loved his first book. She secretly ordered about fifty copies to offer her support, but no matter how many virgins she sacrificed, the sales didn't go up.

"That's fine," she thought, "Itachi will succeed. He has never been a failure."

Everything was fine, except for Itachi moving in with…Mikoto couldn't even remember the girl's name.

As soon as Kisame got back, no matter what detour he took, at one point he'd have to cross the Uchiha house, and Mikoto was ready. She even baked a cake to lure him in. It was past midday when her vigilant eyes caught the sight of a familiar gigantic figure.

"Kisame! Come here, I've made some cake," she called from the window. Luckily for Kisame, Mikoto didn't notice the sceptical look on his face as he dragged his feet towards the front door. By the time he got to the kitchen Mikoto was already preparing tea and had packed half of the cake for Kisame to take home. He sat down without protesting against free food, "Mikoto," he grinned, "I know you just want to hear about Itachi's roommate."

Mikoto slapped his shoulder with a towel, "Kisame! How petty do you think I am? I hoped the subject would come up during civil conversation."

With the speed of a teenager she sat down across Kisame with a polite smile frozen on her face.

Kisame seemed to crack under the pressure of her motherly gaze, "Breathe easy, she seems harmless. She isn't a prostitute or a minx; I didn't notice any serial killer tendencies, except for her love towards pizza. Overall, Suzuki Tomoko is harmless. You might even like her."

He used Mikoto's thinking pause to grab a bite of the delicious fruit cake in front of him. She rubbed her chin while thinking, "How sexy was she?"

Kisame nearly choked on his cake, "I can't discuss something like that with you!"

Mikoto snorted, "Oh get a hold of yourself, Kisame! I live in a house of men; I'm not blind to your habits."

"…I'll pretend that this part of the conversation never happened. She's fine, doesn't dress in anything revealing, and has really long hair. Otherwise, she's normal."

"I wonder if Itachi likes long hair on women…."

Kisame quickly gulped down the tea and ate the remaining slice of cake. "Look," he said after finishing, "Itachi is in good hands. She can't cook and doesn't try to molest him at every step. I heard she's helping him find a job or something."

"Probably as a host…or maybe a pimp! My poor son!"

"Mikoto!"

* * *

"You need a desk."

"No."

"And a computer."

"No."

"Come on, how _are_ you going to write a book by hand?! And edit anything? You'd have to know every page by heart! What about a spell checker?"

Itachi released a deep sigh before running his fingers through his hair, "Tomoko, I'm broke. Well…that's not entirely true, but I don't have money for a computer."

"Well then you could just live in a public toilet as well, since you're broke and it's cheap."

The two walked down the street, hands filled with plastic bags. The little roaming ended up with Itachi buying everything he was still missing. For example real food. It was a surprise that Tomoko hadn't died of malnourishment yet, though Itachi was convinced that she got her vitamins elsewhere.

Previously they engaged in and argument about Itachi's way of writing. Tomoko was convinced that writing a book on paper would be a terrible idea.

"Well what if the house catches on fire? It's a lot easier to run with a laptop compared to a pack of papers…more flammable as well," she rambled on.

"How is that connected to anything?"

"It's a realm of possibilities."

"You sound like my mother," deadpanned Itachi. He was used to the paranoid, delusional and obscene possibilities that Mikoto could conjure up when she felt extra productive, the main contributour to his sarcastic humour.

Tomoko made the cutest eyes she could muster, "You mean I'm extremely beautiful and witty?"

"Oh," mused Itachi, "Are you perhaps calling me beautiful? As opposed to masculine?"

She shrugged and grinned, "I'm not here to caress your ego, dear weasel…" The grin shifted and Tomoko resumed to observe the power lines with a thoughtful smile, "What's your family like?"

Itachi shrugged, "Normal…I guess. An overprotective mother, workaholic father and an annoying little brother," Tomoko only caught a glimpse of the smile on his face when he thought about his brother. Desüite his innate gentle nature, Itachi rarely smiled, but when speaking of his brother it just happened naturally. As annoying as Sasuke was with her fan girls and girlfriend Sakura, he remained the little brother Itachi tried to bring up.

"What about your family?"

Tomoko nearly tripped and fell before straightening up, "Ah," she began with a sheepish smile, "None of your business, but perhaps someday I'll tell you about them."

The sun was already setting. The neighbourhood looked like an anime with the idyllic oranges and yellows playing in the sky, mixing together, sometimes disappearing completely. They took another turn and Itachi found himself on the familiar street. His eyes caught something atypical, a man with white hair and a scar on his left eye was smoking in front of their apartment complex. Itachi didn't let the disturbance show on his face, but Tomoko seemed irked.

"Idiot Kakashi, what the hell is he doing here?" she muttered and jogged ahead. He witnessed her convey some message to the man who only shrugged and offered her a cigarette, which Tomoko refused. When Itachi got closer he was blinded by another one of Tomoko's dazzling smiles, "Hey Itachi, you can go up. This is just a friend of mine. I'll be there in a second."

"Actually," interrupted Kakashi, "I'd like to talk to…Itachi was it?" he asked curiously, eyeing the boy. Itachi felt as if he was scanned. There was an exchange of looks between Kakashi and Tomoko and Itachi couldn't decrypt the warning she sent the man.

"Alright, but I still want to speak to you later," said Tomoko and left them alone. As Tomoko left the air seemed to warm up again. He was shook out of his daze soon enough by Kakashi's extended hand. He shook it firmly, as a sign of respect.

"I'm Hatake Kakashi," introduced the man with a small bow, "I guess you could call me a friend of Tomoko's."

"Uchiha Itachi," he responded dryly, not entirely sure which approach to use on Kakashi.

The man, seemingly oblivious to Itachi's uncertainty, remained vigilant, "I guess it was my inner protectiveness that drove me here. Both to see who you are and give you a little tip."

"So Tomoko is actually just Tom and a sociopath?" asked Itachi dourly. Kakashi snorted, "That's quite far from the truth. Actually she's very docile as long as you obey her rules."

"Rules?"

Kakashi lit up his third cigarette. Itachi was ready to make a bet that the cause of death for that man would be murder or lung cancer.

"She hasn't imposed any? Well, just know one thing about Tomoko…She's private, extremely…and for good reasons that you perhaps deserve or don't need to know. Everything in due time, if you even feel the need to probe in the girl's brain…"

Itachi leaned against the wall next to Kakashi, "So you're just being posessive?"

"Probably, you can ignore my advice and get stabbed into the back during her outburst if you wish."

Itachi smirked and stepped away from the wall, "No need, I can probably figure her out on my own."

"Good," nodded Kakashi, "Because her self-expression skills are horrendous."

* * *

As soon as Tomoko came downstairs, Kakashi was slammed against the wall with strenght that Tomoko, at first glance, shouldn't be capable off. The previous plesant smile was replaced with a sneer.

"Don't _ever _stuff your nose into my private life!" she hissed, afraid to disturb the neighbours. Kakashi seemed to be stupefied with his tongue dysfunctional. He had witnessed Tomoko's outbursts before, but never before had he been the source.

"Don't you think that I'm already well aware of your private life?" mumbled Kakashi meekly.

"There's a difference to knowing my past and literally stuffing your nose where it doesn't belong! Made him think like I'm some weak, unstable little shit, did you?" she barked. Regaining her composure, Tomoko turned away from Kakashi, rubbing her temples. He straightened his suit and wiped away some of the dust from his shoulders.

"Oh by the way, I spoke to Rin. It's arranged, but she doesn't really mind. Actually, she seemed even happy," there was a vicious glint in her eyes, but it remained unseen by Kakashi who didn't dare to speak a word. The silence just kept dragging on, making it hard to breathe.

"I guess we're even?" he offered, earning only a mocking snort from Tomoko.

"You, don't call me unless you find the little shit! I don't want to see you otherwise. We're done for today."

"Don't you think that you're overreacting?"

Kakashi sighed as he was ignored again and watched as Tomoko walked away without offering him a second glance. It was refreshing to see this side of her…The usually timid and friendly aura was replaced with the sinister and cold persona that filled her from top to bottom. It reminded him why the two even became…acquaintances.

The two didn't speak for a month after that. The silent treatment would've tarried on even longer, hadn't it been for the note.


	4. Aria

4.

It took a copious amount of effort to figure out how the mind of Suzuki Tomoko operates…or to be more specific how the perceptible half of her persona worked. Without either of them noticing, a month had passed since they moved in. Their gender wasn't an obstacle, for both held mutual respect towards the other. Tomoko didn't prance around naked and Itachi, for most part, wore a shirt. Not that Tomoko openly complained when she caught sight of the chiselled chest.

Every now and then when the conversation trudged to greater depths, Itachi noticed that he was obliged to give up more about himself that Tomoko ever did. She steered clear of topics that would pressure her to give up any personal information about her past. This fragment of Tomoko's personality also made her trustworthy, and Itachi found it astoundingly easy to confine little bits about him to the safety of Tomoko's mind.

After all, she probably locked her mind and ate the key years ago.

Despite not openly probing in her past, Itachi found it easy to make some deductions of his own. Not that he would present those ideas to her unless specially prompted. Intuition warned him that Tomoko would just disappear as soon as she felt too exposed.

Deduction 1.

Tomoko was most likely an orphan. Her family died in a horrendous car crash/etc. type of accident.

Deduction 2.

She was sexually abused by either her parent/foster parent.

Deduction 3.

Rejection problems, neglected child.

In due course Itachi discovered that Tomoko worked part-time as a singer in a jazz bar in Shibuya. Three or four times a week, she would leave the house in the ridiculous, but captivating, up-do to charm the drunken crowds with songs unheard by most. It wasn't chance that led him to the discovery, but Tomoko wasn't very neat when it came to sheet music, which littered the floors unless Itachi crudely pointed it out.

"Are you a singer?" he would ask, and admire the sight of that brief tenseness in her shoulders.

"None of your business," would be the snappy reply to most of his questions.

Yet she became easier to read as time passed. The miniscule changes in her demeanour when you hit the jackpot would often give away the truth, no matter how much she tried to keep everything about her hidden. What was still missing was the motive to remain obscure, and it annoyed the hell out of him. Itachi was used to _getting _people. He knew that Kisame was probably attracted to him, he could tell when his predictions about Tomoko were correct and he could tell when his mother was concealing the truth from him.

But what was that flatmate of his burying so deep in her heart that the mere thought of sharing it caused her to become so rigid?

Why?

* * *

"Itachi, are you in there?" Tomoko called out one evening, waving her hand in front of his eyes. Itachi was so consumed in his manuscript; the passing of time went unnoticed. Luck was in his favour and during the month he had began writing some scenes that flashed in his mind. What he lacked was a coherent way to tie does fragments into a constant flow of words.

Just little scenes, teasing him with their vagueness, because he knew that behind those blurry edges, there was something more. It felt like looking at a party through a keyhole - you can grasp the essence of the scene, but miss out on all the tiny details.

His eyebrow curved immediately, as Tomoko seemed flustered. That was something new. She often blushed when she had to express her personal opinions...so...a personal request perhaps?

It was becoming a game for him.

"You look like you're about to ask for a loan...or make me eat some of your cooking. Not that the two options differ much."

Tomoko snorted and crossed her arms, "Fuck off, I'm trying to be nice. Unlike you, I don't have to eat my leather belt and sheet music," no, she was still in her element.

"Compared to the breakfast you forced on me yesterday, I'd say a leather belt would serve me well."

Tomoko pouted suggestively, "Are you going to punish me?" she whispered while batting her eyelashes.

"Have you ever heard of the word 'salt'? I promise you the food would be a lot less stale if you used some seasoning," he suggested, dropping some of his manuscripts on her head.

Genuine surprised flashed over her face, "Wait...you mean it's not pre-seasoned?" It felt as if the entire universe just lit up.

"Yes, chicken lay salty eggs because that's everything a growing organism needs," deadpanned Itachi. If only Mikoto could get her hands on Tomoko and whip her up a bit...

"Look," she slammed the manuscript paper on the desk into his chest roughly, "You're missing the big picture here. Maybe we just solved world hunger! People don't use salt!"

"Do you even understand the concept of world hunger?"

Tomoko rolled her eyes, "Ever heard of sarcasm? Try it, it's really healthy!"

Itachi chuckled before beginning to rearrange the scattered sheets of paper. Tomoko made no move to help him. "What did you want from me?"

"I thought that maybe you want to come with me tonight…to the bar where I sing. If sitting up the entire night is too tiring for you then there's a sofa in the back room as well."

"Thanks to you, I've pretty much adopted the nocturnal lifestyle of an isolated social butterfly."

"Alright, hermits should stay home. You have to work tomorrow as well...I didn't know you could make pizza..." her patience ran thin, and some growing irk, call it womanly intuition, told her to retract the invitation.

Itachi smirked and gathered his materials, "So it's decided. A change of atmosphere might do wonders with my inspiration."

Tomoko shrieked with a mixture of vexation and hysteria, "You'll make me fuck up the entire show, and then I have to become a host!"

It amused him immensely to watch her squirm on a healthy daily basis. Not too much to actually hurt her, but just enough to cause some agitated shrieks.

"You confuse me," moaned Itachi, faking the mien of a schoolgirl, "Wasn't it sempai who invited me in the first place? Never mind that, you'd make a terrible host. A tsundere café would suit you better." The last statement earned him a stinging slap against the back.

Tomoko shook her head, trying not to barf, "Sometimes…I really hate this side of you."

"As long as you love the other, it's fine," Itachi sang as he put on his coat. Tomoko sighed exasperatedly before she followed him. It was comforting really, to be walking at night with a man who wasn't a stranger. It made her feel a bit more safe. Outside of the confining walls of the apartment, was a world full of creeps, but Itachi was…well familiar wouldn't really match the current state of affairs but 'the best she had' will do. He was interesting, captivating to her, because Tomoko could only discern parts of his personality.

Unlike most, he was observant and with little practice could understand her moods, while she didn't know how to press his buttons. Itachi, if he were malicious, could've manipulated her to death. It was a transcendent experience to live with the author she admired so much, it was like something out of a book.

They say that the first book of any author is like an autobiography, a subtle version of one. If you can decode the blotches of ink, you are inside their head. Or inside their head at the time it was written.

"Funny, how we don't really know if life's at a standstill or no," mused Tomoko while they were waiting for the train.

Itachi shrugged, "If there's no action, no progress then life is at standstill. Going somewhere, anywhere is fine. As soon as you stop moving, you stop living. You inviting me, despite your imminent regret, is a step forward,"

"Should I kiss you right now, or would you rather it be a surprise?"

"It better be accompanied by flowers and a diamond ring, if we're going then it better be all or nothing."

* * *

It was a lively night at the bar. It was packed, by the time it was Tomoko's time to take the stage, she couldn't discern a single face; Itachi disappeared into the volume of people like a chameleon, for the sake of her performance.

For the next few hours, she would become someone else, a beautiful mistress of the twenties, singing about love and betrayal. There was only a slight hint of accent in her English, the crimson lips formed words fluidly, and if it weren't for her eyes, one would mistake Tomoko for an American.

To become a singer was never the goal of Tomoko's. It was a skill that she harboured and decided to use to make ends meet, there was no real passion of fuel behind her voice, but years of practice had shaved off this perceptible shortcoming of her performance.

Song after song, hour after hour she sang, accompanied by drunken rambling and occasional wave of applause when she got a few minutes to catch her breath. Tomoko's name and personality here were an enigma, which was her only requirement for the club, "Don't give out my name or any other means to contact me, use an alias if you must."

It was around five when the manager Takanashi woke up the last sleeping customers and escorted them safely out of the door and towards the train station. By that time, Tomoko felt like dying. She had no idea if Itachi was still even in the club or did he ditch her for…creative purposes. Either way, what she cared about right now was a cup of coffee and a fat, cheesy slice of pizza.

"Hey Takanashi, is the kitchen still open?" she called out, massaging her sore feet. The manager's head popped out from behind the bar and he shrugged, "I think my wife went to bed already…but there should be some leftovers in the fridge if you're that hungry. No pizza today,"

Well, not even this place could be called paradise. Especially with the smell of fifteen different brands of tobacco mixed together.

"Forget it then," she laughed, "Did my friend leave?"

It's not as if he had any means of transportation in the middle of the night. Except for walking, because it's _cheap_.

"He got a bit drowsy around four so I sent him upstairs, hasn't come down yet I reckon. Oh yeah, some old bloke left you flowers and a letter. Complimented on your voice, a real gentleman as well, they're upstairs with your guy."

The owner Takanashi lived upstairs with his wife. They were a young couple and didn't have any children yet, so the two unoccupied rooms were reserved for staff. One of them contained a sofa, currently occupied by a weasel, and a few tables. The room was used as a temporary resting place slash storage room while the other room contained lockers and a bathroom.

Tomoko quietly opened the door and slid herself into the room. It was dim there, the only source of light were the few lonesome rays of light that managed to force themselves through the thick velvet curtains. The only noise came from Itachi's steady breathing. Tomoko squatted down to his head, contemplating whether to wake him up or not. She preserved the image of his sleeping face to her memory before deciding to allow him a few more moments of serenity.

His phone was on the ground. She checked the screen and saw that he had set an alarm for himself.

"Silly man," she thought, "How are you going to work in this state?"

One of the tables was engulfed by a large bouquet of crimson roses and neatly pushed against it was a card.

'_To: Miss Suzuki Tomoko' _was written immaculately on the smooth surface. The idea occurred to simply throw away the card and leave the flowers be, but her inherent curiosity led her, as if she was bewitched, and her slender fingers subconsciously opened the envelope.

It was good that Itachi was such a heavy sleeper during the first few hours of his slumber.

_My dearest Renko,_

_Why did you make it so hard to find you once more? It pains me that you have hidden that beautiful innocence I once witnessed under layers of forgery, but…I couldn't show you my real face today as well. You would've screamed like you did back then, what if you ruin your beautiful voice? I always knew you were the one; your sister could never measure up to this. It was the right thing to leave you be. Your long hair, it reminds me of a doll, it's beautiful. Soon you may sing to me the song that is so drenched in blood. _

_Yours truly_

* * *

"Why!? After all those years, Kakashi?"

"Tomoko, please sit down."

The floor was littered with long dark strands of hair. The scissors responsible were still clutched in her hands. She had long decided not to be his plaything, ever, and if it meant chopping off her hair, so be it.

"And," she shrieked, tears streaming down her cheeks, "he could've seriously hurt someone there! He could've hurt Itachi, or Takanashi! They have nothing to do with this!"

She was pacing around Kakashi's apartment, with him tailing her at every step, heedful not to touch her or provoke any violent outburst. He kept eyeing the scissors in her hands with growing vigilance.

"_This_ was my new start. I don't want to be known as the fucking murder girl again, heck, Itachi is just going to walk right out of that door the moment I tell him! He was so nice to me, god, I thought that maybe, maybe he could be my new start. I can't conceal this from him anymore as well, just…FUCK!" Tomoko slammed her fist against the counter, breathing heavily. The scissors slid from her fingers and fell down with a loud clank, barely missing her foot. Saves him the trip to a hospital.

Kakashi stopped behind her and almost hugged her, but just before coming to contact with her shoulder decided against it.

"I worked so hard, to erase this part of me, to simply wait for him to be caught. We can't even track the son of a bitch down based on the letter since he wore a fucking disguise! I'll be fired, broke, homeless and alone once again. Maybe I should just go an offer myself to him on a silver platter and get this crap over with."

"No!" Kakashi whipped her around and cornered her against the counter, "Don't even think about doing that, ever. He'll be caught, thanks to his emerging again, soon. Only three people touched this letter, you, Takanashi and him. I'll drop you off at home and take this straight to the station. You did the right thing coming to me…"

'Did I go too far?' he thought as Tomoko was reduced to a frightened child, right under his eyes. Last time this happened was four years ago.

"I put myself back together…Right from the beginning…I really liked Itachi as well. It's only been a month, how could I throw my past at him like that?"

Kakashi sighed and his hands encircled Tomoko intuitively and he pulled her into his embrace. There was nothing sexual about it. For the time being, Kakashi took on the role of a fatherly figure for her.

"Yeah," he murmured, "I know, and you did a great job."

"I'm not the way I used to be. I'm stronger than that."

"You're the bravest girl I know," offered Kakashi gently. He heard her scoff, "My hair must be a mess right now…"

"You're really worried about that right now? Cleaning it up will be creepy..."

She nodded slowly, "Hey, I'm still a woman. Besides, Itachi's hair is now longer than mine."

"Well he's a bohemian writer; didn't you say that a true male artist has long hair?"

"He has exceeded that limit already, but I like it."

"How is his creative work progressing?"

"Slowly, analysing me seems to captivate him more. Not to mention he's good at it."

Tomoko sighed and shook her head. Kakashi instinctively knew to release her from his grasp. The conversation distracted her long enough from the problems to compose herself again.

"Take me to a hairdresser, then to my house and then go to the station."

"You sure you won't try to slit your wrists with the seatbelt?"

"I carry a knife with me and a yoyo in case my heart will only embrace hanging."

Her voice was still weary, but if Tomoko harboured the strength to carry out sarcastic remarks again, then it was fine. Brick by brick, just like the first time, she'd fix the cracks created in her persona. It was easier now that she had a foundation.

* * *

Kakashi accompanied to her apartment, it took Tomoko a few minutes to assure him that everything is tolerable enough for her to handle it. Though not equipped with her generic smile, she managed to stop the tremors in her hands and legs. The irking paranoia of being watched accompanied her with a much stronger force.

Her slim face was framed by subtle curls that just reached her chin. The woman at the salon seemed appalled at the butchery she had made of her hair.

It wasn't fear of death that currently paralyzed her senses; it was the fear of her precious people being stolen once more, right from her nose by an anonymous stranger, who held all the cards. Itachi had nothing to do with this; at the very least, she could inform him.

All Tomoko knew about the pig was the nickname he used to introduce himself.

Sasori

Scorpion

Not much of a name. All that she could remember was a young adult, god he used to be handsome. The colour of his hair was still etched into Tomoko's-. No, this was etched to Renko's mind. The beautiful and frightening crimson red that suited him so well, littering his shirt and hands.

Her eyes travelled around the empty living room. 'This place is too cramped after all…' she thought listlessly. When Tomoko first visited the place, she fell in love. Spacious apartments made her nervous, too many places to hide, too many surprises, yet now her safe haven morphed into a cage.

This time it was going to be different. She wasn't the naïve 16-year old Renko anymore. This time, she'd confront him head on and end this chapter of her life for once and for all.

She kept checking the clock on her phone. It was about time Itachi got back, unless he decided to go drinking.

"But first," she thought as Tomoko heard the familiar sound of a key turning, "I have to come clean."


	5. Liberamente 1

5.

It was a lonesome road that Renko walked upon. She kept checking the houses, then her phone, and back to the houses again. It was close to midnight, but she knew that at least one of the apartments would be lit. Any young police detective would stay up like an insomniac.

With a victorious smile, she discovered the right one. Renko tried not to cringe at the run-down appearance of the place. This looked exactly like a place where a drug-dealer would stay.

"I knew the police are poor, but _this _is ridiculous!" she thought. It crossed her mind to leave, to turn around and go back to the hotel. It was hard to oppose her pride and determination, because they were so tightly entwined.

Yes, even after the attention the media had cast onto her and her family, Renko still had pride in her left. A daughter from a wealthy family, she was used to some levels of attention and knew better than to show any weakness.

Carefully Renko entered the building. The hallways smelled like piss and alcohol, she covered her nose with a handkerchief and practically sprinted to the third floor. It was a tiny complex and finding the detective's apartment wasn't hard. Renko knocked on the door and waited. It was a miracle that the door didn't just fall right from its hinges.

The silence dragged on until she heard some movement. There were sounds of various locks being opened before a worn-out young man opened the door. His eyes had dark circles and he hadn't shaved for at least two days.

"Good evening," said Renko politely, masking her distaste towards the man.

He looked at her for a few seconds before realisation dawned, "Aren't you…You're Onigumi?"

For a brief moment the air around her seemingly grew colder, "I prefer Renko; the family name has been spoiled by the media. Are you Hatake Kakashi?"

The man nodded slowly, it was obvious that the wheels were spinning in his head at the speed of light. While Renko removed her coat, Kakashi had already come up with a few theories about her visit.

With amazing speed, he managed to clear out some space for Renko on the sofa, which she took politely.

"You're here about the case," he stated, "Judging based on your initiative, you want to either help or get information. You could've called me, but since you're personally here means that you aren't going to bribe me. So, you're offering to sleep with me?"

Renko seemed pleased, "So you're not mentally challenged, that's a sweet surprise. I'm not exactly throwing myself at you, but if it comes down to this, I will. I got a nice sum of money if that's what you want," she tried not to grimace at the sight of the unwashed dishes, "God knows you need it…"

"You're quite cocky for a teenager, stupid as well," laughed Kakashi lightly. Renko's expression didn't change.

"Are you afraid that I would press charges later? There would be nothing in it for me."

"Well helping you would only jeopardize my career, only an idiot would accept your offer."

Renko rolled her eyes, "I'm betting on it. There are about fifty people on this case, one of them is bound to be an idiot," a sly grin spread on her lips.

"Don't ever sell your body over this case."

Only two months had passed since the Onigumi 'Red demon' case and newspapers were having a field day. The fact that police hadn't made any progress only gave the reporters another opportunity to criticise the authority and create rumours about the possible motive.

Kakashi studied the girl in front of him carefully, contemplating his choices. It was evident that Renko would go to any lengths to get in on the case. Sharing too much information with the family was prohibited, and for a good reason. She'd try to catch him on her own, exact some form of revenge and possibly be trialled for murder. If she played it smart, Renko could end up in an asylum instead, pretending to be the crazed victim that lost her common sense.

The only side-effect would be being tied down to a bed and eating medication, which turns your brain into mush.

"Well," she stood up suddenly, "If you're not interested, then I'm leaving. I have better things to do."

Kakashi made no move to stop her. She was almost out of the door before he called out, "Wait!"

He believed that ignoring her willpower would come easy, but it went against his morals and Kakashi's innate habit of compassion emerged.

Renko made no move to obey his command. She had no need of pawns that don't benefit her in any way. Kakashi pulled her back into the apartment and shut the door sharply. To deal with people like Renko, there was only one way – lure them in.

"How about we make a deal?"

She didn't even bother to put on the façade of a cheerful teen, openly showing her displeasure.

"Surprise me,"

Kakashi sat her back down again and walked around the apartment, circling the sofa. Renko didn't stay seated on the sofa for long, uncertain when was it last cleaned. Kakashi didn't even notice the movement. It didn't matter if she sat down or stood up; Renko was still a midget next to him.

"How about," damn, he had to rack his brains for something brilliant, "You help me clean out this apartment."

There was a pause before she burst out laughing, "God, you must _hate _your job, if that's the price I might as well go straight to your superior."

"That's not all. You have to promise me, that whatever happens, you won't go after him. Leave that to the authorities."

Her smile disappeared as abruptly as it appeared, "It's been two months, and you haven't discovered a single fucking thing. Someone has to go after him."

Kakashi smirked, he had her. She would not walk out on a deal like this. Renko would lose nothing and he would gain a clean apartment to drag Rin into. Actually, dragging Rin here would be a terrible idea, the hallways smelled like shit and the house looked like it was taken straight from a horror movie.

If this house were to be in a movie, it'd be called "The Nest of Hermit the Sociopath" or something similar.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, "Renko," she jumped at the use of her name, "Don't throw away your pride, dignity over this. You won't stumble upon another offer like this. Don't try to sleep with me or any other detective working on this case, your plan may backfire horribly."

"Will you give me unlimited access? I want to see everything, photos, testimonies – everything."

He groaned inwardly, perhaps he should've let her go after all. The long and fulfilling career suddenly seemed harder to reach. If this offer were ever to witness daylight…That's why compassionate people rarely make it to the top. It's a realm of predators, and bunnies get eaten.

"Yes."

"Could I have some time to think? If I show up tomorrow, consider your deal legit."

* * *

A year later, Onigumi Renko changed her name to Suzuki Tomoko. She did it quietly, after the press had lost interest towards the murder case.

"How am I going to get a job when everyone knows my name, 'Oh, you're _the _Onigumi daughter from the Red Demon killer case?'" she reasoned, picking one of the most common family names in Japan.

"Where did you get the name Tomoko from?"

"A really cool book, written by a man with a funky name. One of the characters is named Tomono, but it seemed like a rip-off to use a name so obviously fake."

"So I'm not allowed to use your old name any more?"

Tomoko grunted, "I hate that name, it's going straight to the corner of lost things."

"You've changed a lot, Onigumi Renko," Kakashi thought with, though he didn't admit it to himself, a sense of pride. He had become the emotional compass, the role model for Tomoko who had no one else to look up to.

The book mentioned earlier was still somewhere in Kakashi's old apartment. He had no idea how did Renko stumble upon it, but she stormed into his apartment one evening, crying that he _has _to read this book. She gave him a short overview - it was mainly about conspiracy.

It was written from the perspective of a thirteen year old ninja who, through some twists and turns of power, was forced to kill his entire family to avoid war. The only people he was unable to kill were his little brother and lover. Tomoko didn't share much more and ordered Kakashi to read it.

The book never sold, despite Tomoko's protests, "Uchiha Itachi is a genius!"

Her heated protests and furious demands couldn't make it popular and the book remained anonymous.

In the end, Kakashi never even opened the book. It went missing during his move to Tokyo and Tomoko, after much searching, managed to get a hold of another copy.

* * *

"Surprise motherfucker!"

Kakashi looked at Ren-, no, it's Tomoko now, with some confusion. As usual, Tomoko was accompanied by a box of pizza and a bottle of gin. What was out of the ordinary was a diploma.

"You're too early, aren't you supposed to be at your graduation ceremony?" he stepped away from the door to let Tomoko in. She twirled around the glossy floor and with a graceful leap jumped to the kitchen. Kakashi trudged right after her, "I wasn't expecting you before lunch so I haven't prepared anything…"

"The place was filled with reporters," Tomoko snapped, "Pesky nosy annoying little shits! I sweet-talked the principal to give me my diploma. It worked out well for all counterparts. They would've turned that ceremony into a freak-show…and found out about my name change."

When Tomoko made it to the kitchen, her voice trailed off. On the table was a hand-made strawberry cake. Sure, the appearance was below average, but it was the effort that mattered. She dropped the pizza box right next to it.

"You made a cake," she stated sheepishly, as if a Greek god had appeared in her shower.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably, "Well…Rin helped me out a lot…It felt wrong to buy one after you dragged your ass through three years of high school…Even if I did most of the dragging."

A genuine smile lightened up her features, "I tried to bake a cake for you yesterday, you know, after I heard that you were promoted captain and all…but I forgot to add sugar and somehow the dough turned kind of grey…"

"So you brought pizza instead?" he replied knowingly. That was the only edible thing that Tomoko could create or, when she was feeling lazy, buy. Everything else she tried to cook either caught on fire or tasted like rubber.

"Hey," she grinned and punched his arm playfully, "If it walks like a cake and quacks like a cake then it is a cake. A salty cake, but that's a minor detail."

Kakashi wasn't in the mood to enter a debate about the nature of a cake.

It was a pleasant day for them both. They ate the pizza and about half of the cake, until either of them couldn't even move any more.

"Hey Kakashi," moaned Tomoko from the armchair. She was sprawled over the edges, trying to stretch out to leave some room for her stomach. She waited until her ears caught a familiar grunt. Good, that meant that Kakashi was at least listening.

"Take me to Tokyo with you. I'll find a job and all that in due time, but you have an apartment there already. I promise I'll move out as soon as I find a cheap place."

He pondered over the options. Theoretically, he had room in Tokyo to accommodate one person.

"Don't you want to work here?"

Tomoko giggled, "Stupid scarecrow, you lack empathy. I want to get out of this city and disappear. Where would I work? Everyone knows me here, but Tokyo," she breathed dreamily, "That's a city of possibilities. I changed my name as well, melting in wouldn't be a problem."

She was right, in some ways. Kakashi was extremely logical, but when it came to understanding the emotional capacity of women, he was occasionally clueless. How do their strange, foreign minds function? What makes them tick?

"What about work?"

"I can sing anywhere."

They had become friends, emotional crutches for each other. Kakashi proved to be a fatherly figure in Renko's life, making her go back to school and helping her find a part-time job so her inheritance wouldn't run out. In exchange, as promised, Renko kept Kakashi's bachelor nest clean and listened to his rants about Tsubaki Rin.

In the end, Kakashi did take her to Tokyo with him. It was all done secretly though, to avoid unpleasant questions. Tomoko was still young and Kakashi wasn't old enough to pose as her father. With her voice, it wasn't hard to find a job. Tomoko sang for a living and after six months, moved out. She changed addresses quite often, until she found a roommate, namely Uchiha Itachi.


	6. Liberamente 2

6.

Kisame was late, so damn late again. The voice of Miss Nakada was already booming in his head 'Hoshigaki, an extra assignment for you again!' The thought crossed his mind to skip class entirely, but his mother frightened him more than their teacher Nakada did. He ran up two flights of stairs, wondering why it was so hard to get to the gallows.

He stopped behind the classroom to catch his breath before opening the door. People's eyes whipped right up from their textbooks. Everyone loved some public humiliation; it was the unavoidable group mentality that took over.

Kisame winked at his current love interest before turning his gaze to their teacher Nakada. She was old as a bag of dirt and looked like a dried plum, which was dried once more, just to be on the safe side.

A quick glance at the blackboard informed Kisame that it was math. Nakada kept tapping her fingers on the table with an air of distaste around her. The pair entered a staring competition, until Kisame remembered something.

"Sorry that I'm late, Miss Nakada," he said stoically. The sentence had become a daily routine for him. No matter how early he got up or how quickly he moved, Kisame was always late to everywhere.

It was hard to feign the appearance of humility as a fourteen year old, especially if you're as tall as a high school student. The apology seemed to bounce right off Miss Nakada, who kept eyeing him up and down.

"Hoshigaki, seems like an extra assignment for you again, and straighten that uniform; you look like a wannabe yakuza!"

'That hag!' he cursed in his mind, already regretting that he even showed up to this class. Groggily he feigned tightening the tie around his neck. Miss Nakada wasn't happy with the result, but wasting precious time on a hopeless kid like Hoshigaki seemed useless.

"You can sit right next to Uchiha at the back, dismissed!"

Actually, Kisame was going to retract that statement. At the back of the class was the only person whose eyes weren't glued on Kisame. A new student, unaccustomed to the daily lynching of Hoshigaki Kisame, seemed to be quite the babe as well.

During his short trip to the seat he got a brief look at her. Quite skinny, but there was time to develop some curves, and a very well defined jaw line. Rest of her, presumably attractive, features were covered by long black hair.

Kisame pulled out the chair next to him with a grin. She paid no attention to him, only increasing his eagerness for a challenge. Kisame put his hand on the girl's thigh with an air of confidence.

"Hoshigaki Kisame, suddenly, I regret not showing up on time."

There was a pause before she slapped Kisame's hand away and turned his face towards him. Whatever captivated him was long gone and replaced with raw terror.

It wasn't a she, but a _he_, hence Kisame's future paranoia towards women.

"Sorry, I'm not that into guys," he replied delicately. Man or not, Kisame couldn't deny that the kid looked good. A bit worn-out, but that was probably the look he was going for.

Panic took over and Kisame could feel a blush creeping on his cheeks, "Shit, this isn't what it seems! I thought you were a girl! Your hair and…" he whispered frantically.

Itachi merely raised an eyebrow, "I'm quite open-minded, but wearing a skirt is a bit out of my league."

"I wasn't looking at what you're wearing," he rolled his eyes, "Whatever, let's just start over and pretend this never happened."

"If you're going to introduce yourself again, save it, your name has come up about three times today so there's no need to smudge that over my face again,"

'Damn he's crude,' thought Kisame, but the boy didn't annoy him like most did. The air of distance seemed to be part of his personality, not something that was worn to attract bees. He was sarcastic, but there was no sense of malice or bitterness coming from the boy.

"What about yours?"

Itachi was about to respond, but a book was suddenly slammed on Kisame's table, causing the latter to jump. Miss Nakada was towering over him with a disappointed pout, "Not only are you late, but you don't bother to even take out your things."

Kisame rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "We were engaging in a deep discussion about theorems, completely relevant."

A wave of laughter passed over the classroom. Miss Nakada seemed unimpressed, "Well, since you're so knowledgeable about the subject you can make a presentation about them tomorrow…along with the extra assignment." Did she actually believe that Kisame could or would complete the assignments? No, but she did hope to beat some sense into the boy.

It was sheer willpower that kept Kisame from cursing aloud. Could this morning get any worse? The rest of the lesson he kept imagining different ways Miss Nakada could die right there. Perhaps a torpedo would fly in the class, or a manic school shooter looking for revenge would jump out of the closet.

* * *

It was nearly midnight, but Kisame and Itachi were still up on the hill near their homes. It was a clear night and finally they could see the stars. They didn't live in a very urban area, so the light pollution wasn't as bad there as if was in Tokyo or Kyoto. It took them only one break to discover that they were practically neighbours and a friendship bloomed between them over a few months. At first, Kisame was planning to exploit Itachi's smarts, but wasn't expecting to actually like Itachi. Their worlds were polar opposites, their views often mirroring each other, but it was their sarcastic sense of humour that kept them together.

Itachi was lying in the grass with his eyes closed while Kisame was sitting up, eating a sandwich. The sandwiches that Mikoto gave them were the best. The boy didn't dare to admit it aloud in the fear that his own mother might hear of it. 'Oh you think she's so good? Well you can cook for yourself then!' – His mother's voice echoed in his head like a shadow.

"Is it time to switch already?" he whined. Itachi shrugged, "I don't think so. There's no one here anyway, what's the point of doing this?"

On Kisame's demand they had decided to switch positions in every twenty minutes. One of them would lie on their back and the other would sit up. The purpose of this was to avoid looking like a couple, secretly hanging out.

"You might be fine with this…gay thing, but I have a reputation to uphold," he snapped and took another gigantic bite, because sandwiches can comfort anyone, especially if they're well made.

Itachi smirked, "You're just jealous because, unlike me, you have to _work _to be accepted. I just happen to be both hot and smart,"

He rolled away from his previous spot, knowing that Kisame was going to punch him in the stomach otherwise.

There was a silent rivalry between the two, but they didn't openly acknowledge it. Kisame was popular because of his charm and attentiveness, on the duration of his curiosity, while Itachi remained constantly popular. Despite his sixteenth birthday already looming ahead, Itachi hadn't accepted any love letters from his myriad admirers. It also made him the only virgin who wasn't ridiculed about it, but it was viewed as something transcendent. It didn't take long after his transfer for teachers to notice Itachi's skill with words and his apparent disinterest to any other subject but literature and languages. The image of a rogue writer, looking for the one and only was attached to him, and so Itachi maintained his position as a desirable love interest.

"Just wait," Kisame growled through gritted teeth, "I will get into law school and when I pass all my exams I'll be laughing at all of you!"

"Yet based on your grades you're an idiot?" he suggested sarcastically. Kisame's grades in most subjects were horrible, he didn't show up and initiative or effort to improve in science subjects. History and literature were his strong sides, but only selectively. As soon as a topic didn't quite fit his taste, Kisame hastily abandoned it.

"What they teach us at school, its bollocks! I'm excellent in any subject if I'm interested enough. For example…literature, to some extent."

"Oh," mused Itachi, "Can you enlighten me of your theories then?"

Kisame turned to him, now with some eagerness, "Well Oedipus for example…The entire thing could've been avoided! How about…you don't kill anyone and don't fuck a woman who's _clearly _old enough to be your mother? Well the killing was more like self-defence so okay he couldn't avoid killing his father…but marrying his mother? Why not take a younger wife if a prophecy like that has been laid out to you?" The way he said it made it sound as if he had discovered fire.

Itachi popped one eye open before laughing, "Your amazing analysis skills shouldn't remain on this hill. Write a book about it…but I thought you _fancied_ older women?"

"Oh no," waved Kisame his hand dismissively, "I like _mature_ women, old women are so cynical…they depress me with the lectures of 'youth' and the 'good old times'…Lady I came to you for sex, not for a lecture!"

"You're depressingly crude…It's a wonder you haven't died yet of some undiscovered STD…"

"Itachi," he sounded impatient, "I create those diseases. There's no way I can die of them."

"I should record it and send it to mama Hosigaki."

Kisame visibly paled a few shades, "You wouldn't...Demon..."

* * *

Kisame slapped something next to Itachi's paper, who ignored it for a while, despite Mikoto's apparent curiosity. The family was enjoying a cheerful late breakfast, with the exception of Fugaku who had to travel overseas for work and Sasuke, who was visiting his friend Sakura. The Uchiha house was like Kisame's second home, it was normal that he simply marched in whenever. The same rules applied to Itachi as well, but he had a bit more tact.

"This arrived today morning, real nasty case and the killer got away. An intelligent guy like that won't be caught for quite a while, and when he is, I will be on that case. I have to be."

Mikoto took the paper and read the short article. 'The Red Demon case' they called it, describing a morbid incident, which happened to a family of four.

'_Yesterday in the suburban area of Osaka, a family of four was murdered, with the exception of their youngest daughter. The killer had arrived in the residence earlier that night, killing both the jazz musician Onigumi Mira and his wife Nanase. The two sisters came home around nine o' clock and found the killer inside their house. The youngest daughter Renko (16) was spared; it hasn't been yet released how or why she survived. The police don't suspect her involvement. After killing the older daughter, Mami (18), the killer escaped. He is described to be in his early twenties with red hair. Police have refrained from releasing any further information on the case and the investigation is still ongoing. Mira was…'_

The article followed up with a short description of Mira's fleeting jazz career and some brief information about the family members. Some neighbours had agreed to answer question about the family, typical answers like 'They were the perfect family, the one you see in the dramas in TV' and 'Nanase was so nice to everyone around her, they didn't deserve something as horrible like that, I hope they catch the guy and he hangs for the damage he has done' surfaced. Mami was just about to graduate high school as well, she was a bright girl, aiming for the math department of Tokyo U.

"This is horrible, the poor girl. Who's going to take care of her? How is she going to enter high school? Where's she going to live?"

Mikoto felt an undying sense of sympathy towards the survivor. The motherly side of her surfaced and along with it the urge to take in the girl, to offer her the love and protection a growing child needed desperately. Naturally, this wasn't something that she could actually do, but the mere thought of Sasuke being left alone to face the world was mortifying to her, and she could empathise what the mother Nanase might've felt during her final moments.

Kisame sat down behind the kitchen table, ate Itachi's eggroll and shrugged, "I think that school is the last thing on her mind right now. I hope they quickly catch the guy who did it, but just in time for me to get my degree. I'd really wish to prosecute the man."

"I read about it yesterday, the story went viral online," murmured Itachi, "make sure you don't show this to Sasuke. He's going to read about it sooner or later, but I'd rather it be later."

Mikoto sighed and rubbed her temples, "The media is going to enjoy picking on this case for _months_. Renko will be targeted by most reporters; she probably wants to put this all behind her…"

"It's not going to be so easy…if the media already _nicknamed _the killer, then they will chew on that bone as long as there is something nasty to write about," mused Kisame thoughtfully. It happened often in the Japanese media, the first few weeks would be compassionate, but there were always reporters who tried to dig up dirt about victims in order to create some opposition and drama in the society.

A sense of uneasiness came over Mikoto. She knew that there were horrible people out there, terrorising for their own fun, but to demonstrate how defenceless a family can be really got her on the edge. Fugaku spent most of his time away on business trips to provide for the family, and Itachi had no practice with martial arts or combat, thank god. They were vulnerable, and no door or window could hold back a murderer with a cunning mind.

Itachi seemed to notice his mother's distress, for he took her hand gently, "Mother, don't worry. The odds of something like that happening here, with us are tiny. If you want, I can buy you a baseball bat to keep in the bedroom."

She couldn't help but to smile at her son's grim comfort, but Mikoto knew that Itachi would actually buy her a bat if she wished so. He was a gentle man at heart who never purposely hurt anyone unless he was protecting someone significant.

Kisame grinned from ear to ear, "Hey don't forget about me, I could simply scare away any bad guy buy standing up straight."

The macabre situation was lightened with laughter, but the cloud of worry and distrust still remained. For months Mikoto demanded that Itachi would be either home or at Kisame's house every evening before ten. Sasuke found out about the murders two days later. During that time, he was only ten, and kids his age would simply jest about the case and create ghost stories about the 'Red Demon' who'd come at night and kill everyone.

* * *

**I probably won't write another flashback chapter, unless necessary, for a while. I thought it would be better to write about the backgrounds of the characters instead of describing them briefly in dialogue. Besides, I wanted to write Itachi and Kisame together =D since they have no reason to meet up in the present... So next chapter will be confession time~ Ah I have so many ideas about Itachi's reactions...and Mikoto's! I can't wait for Tomoko and Mikoto to meet up. **

**R.**


	7. Nocturne

7.

The idea of heart failure crossed Tomoko's mind more than once when she heard Itachi come home. She rubbed her temples and took in a deep breath. Right now, she was in the confinements of her room and, as long as she stayed there, Tomoko was untouchable. During the time she had spent with Itachi, he hadn't tried to break in. Tomoko knew, for she put tiny slips of paper between the door before heading off to work. Unless Itachi was so vigilant to notice it and put it back once he had spied on Tomoko enough.

Tomoko didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or cry her eyes out at the thought of the numerous outcomes of her confession. It was now or never, before Itachi gets absorbed in his work. If he left, she'd be all alone again.

She left her room and found Itachi on the floor, comfortably leaning on his side.

"Evening, how was your day?" he asked casually.

Tomoko sat down as far away as possible from him, "I've got something to tell you, and you're not going to like it…or perchance you won't give a rat's ass, which I'm hoping for."

He sat up with a tinge of curiosity on his face, "Who's the father?"

Tomoko snorted and rolled her eyes, "That's cliché…and very two thousand and late."

"What can I do? I'm a man of the good old times," he shrugged. The sarcastic jokes only made her feel more dreadful. Tomoko had never _lied _about anything to Itachi, she only concealed or avoided talking about sensitive topics, but she never made anything up. That would be an insult to the memory of her family. He seemed to take notice of her mood, for Itachi shut up and waited, subconsciously mimicking Kakashi.

"My name wasn't always Suzuki Tomoko."

"I know, it's Renko."

This was the second time Tomoko thought that she might actually die. The first time happened when she went to the lake with her family and fell in. Renko was only four at that time at it was her mother who pulled her out from the water. Tomoko's father had always been a good musician, but a complete slug when it came to sports. Her mother on the other hand, ran marathons for fun and was an accomplished swimmer. That's why it took her less than a few seconds to dive in right after Renko and get her out of the water before any damage was done.

She got up hastily, "How the hell do you know that?" she whispered. Itachi sensed her anger, fear and confusion and headed to the kitchen and got out two glasses and a half-empty bottle of gin.

"Don't fucking ignore me!" she shouted, instantly regretting her outburst. Itachi turned around with a comforting smile, "We both have a fair share of explaining to do, might as well drink to make this confession hour more honest."

In fact it was Itachi who should've been angry, but his serenity was suspicious. How long ago did he figure it out? Reluctantly, Tomoko sat down while Itachi procrastinated revealing the truth. To her eyes, Itachi moved his body like a snail.

When he set the two drinks on the table, Tomoko didn't move an inch nor thank him. Her eyes remained glued onto Itachi, who was formulating his thoughts, arranging them in a chronological order.

"Do you wish to start or should I?" he asked smoothly, with a sly smirk. Tomoko crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back against the wall.

"What gave me away? Did you go to my room?" she demanded coldly. Tomoko felt surprised by her own sudden harshness towards Itachi who, in his twisted ways, had been wonderful to her. He seemed unfazed by her manner of speech before sighing.

"Well…of course I didn't suspect anything when I saw you, but it was Kakashi that, metaphorically, gave you away. Don't worry," he said calmly, "he didn't betray your trust. It was the scar that he has on his eye. I remembered seeing it somewhere, just a distant memory, but my curiosity demanded me to look it up and I found one of the videos from the time your family was killed. I found the one I remembered, a press conference about the killing of the Onigumi family, minus one of course," he indicated towards Tomoko.

Itachi paused for a moment to sip the cocktail before continuing, "Your age was right, and your reluctance towards speaking about your past or family. I was about seventy percent sure that I'm right, but asking you upfront would've been wrong. And then you got the letter earlier today, I'm sorry for reading it, but I had to know if my hypothesis was correct."

He knew very well that he was behaving unethically and selfishly, but the burning desire to write triumphed over any other whim of passion. The humane part of him was worried about Tomoko's safety, but the author was forming a blazing story of a young man who uncovers a woman's hidden past and helps her defeat the killer. Perhaps in a Victorian setting to make it more dramatic, and a mad scientist to top it all off. The killer would be as cunning as Jack the Ripper and skilful in disguise and craft, a difficult man to catch indeed.

But would there be justice in the end?

That depended on the outcome of this case. The setting was set, with him and Tomoko as the lead, Kakashi was Tomoko's faithful friend, perhaps even a romantic interest, and Itachi already knew who the mad scientist would be. A wonderful hacker from the west, a half-blood who returned to Japan just a year before, but he couldn't be carried away like this. Before writing an autobiography of them, he had to avoid Tomoko from walking right out.

He was tense, ready to leap if Tomoko decided to haul the untouched glass in front of her to his head. She didn't do it though, instead Tomoko raised her slender hands and began to clap. There was no joy, but it was a slow, sarcastic clapping, accompanied by a strange smile.

"Uchiha Itachi, you truly are a genius. Just from that scar you managed to dig up my entire history…You'd make an excellent character in a book, kind of like Sherlock Holmes."

A sceptical look from the man with a gorgeously curved eyebrow, "You're not suggesting for me to become a detective like many unsuccessful before you?" The drink that he had been sipping scarcely throughout their conversation was gone. He hadn't eaten for an entire day, the fact surfaced when he felt the familiar listlessness in his limbs.

Finally Tomoko reached the conclusion that her drink wasn't spiked and she drank nearly all of it in one go, "You know very well how much I love your book, I'd stop you if you ever tried to quit writing."

He seemed confused, the emotions didn't add up. Tomoko's reaction was none of the seven different options Itachi imagined. It seemed like a risky move to diver her attention, but curiosity outweighed fear.

"Why aren't you angry, or crying or a mixture of the two? I read the letter, something I'd perceive as a form of betrayal combined with the contents of that letter."

Tomoko laughed and drank the rest of the gin before getting up and sitting next to Itachi. Their shoulders just barely touched, and he was surprised to discover he didn't mind.

"Why I'm not afraid? Because I've known for years that he will come for me one day…and when he does I will be ready. Back when I was sixteen he promised me to come back when I'm ready…"

"So you're just going to die?" he asked, skilfully masking his disbelief.

Tomoko laughed, "Oh no, why the first time he managed to strike us was because it was unexpected. Now that he has slither out from his hole, I'm ready and the police is as well. This will be our last chance to catch him and let him rot in jail."

She let her head fall on his shoulder. Tomoko, like Itachi, hadn't eaten for quite a while. It seemed irrelevant compared to the easy feeling they shared. The dark obscure glass was finally smashed and they could look at each other clearly for the first time. Itachi was the first outsider who knew the whole story, excluding Kakashi and Rin who were both working on the case. Tomoko knew that Itachi didn't leave for two reasons – lack of money and his instincts as a writer.

And Tomoko didn't mind. Her misfortune in life was devastating, but if some good could come from this, then she was willing to provide it.

"Are you planning to kill him?" he asked. There was no judgement hidden in his voice or in his mind. Itachi felt that if she did exact revenge, it wouldn't solve anything, but it would be justified from his point of view.

Tomoko sighed, her breath brushing against Itachi's skin.

"No, let him rot in jail until he dies at the ripe age of ninety six. Japan's jails are, after all, famous for being quite tough."

"I like that plan of yours. Ninety six…that's a nice age. I hope he isn't killed by the police during pursuit or something…Perhaps we can find him before the police does."

"How?" she asked anxiously. The thought of confronting Sasori before Kakashi, before anyone was tempting.

"I know a guy who might have some connections…it will take some money to bribe him though…but I have an idea."

"How would you do that? Itachi, if that's something dangerous I don't want you to endanger yourself…This case has never touched you personally before I happened…don't get mixed up."

He gently pet her head with a smirk, "Don't worry, he's harmless to me. I plan to bribe him with a book I haven't yet written…"

For a second, Itachi regretted ever mentioning the book. It could lead to uncomfortable questions and Itachi wasn't sure if Tomoko was ready to handle the answers yet. Their illusion of stability was easy to shatter. It would take just take two words to destroy it. 'About what?'

"It's going to be brilliant, and this time the uneducated masses will appreciate what you wrote."

A breath of relief. The chances that she would forget the subject, despite the alcohol, were thin, but Itachi was grateful that Tomoko didn't try to trip their conversation. Perhaps she sensed Itachi's silent plead as well, not to bother him about his latest work.

"You still didn't answer my other question," why did he steer the conversation towards himself again? Common sense told him to shut up and allow Tomoko to speak her mind, because the odds of the topic of her past surfacing again was small, but that damned innate curiosity of his…And the alcohol. Why did he use so much gin for those cocktails. Tomoko's arm felt like hot burning coals against his sleeve…she felt so vulnerable.

She giggled, "Why I didn't get angry at you? Perhaps because I don't want to…"

"You don't want to?"

"At first, when you told me, I was furious…but that anger felt misdirected. You've never hurt me, you just read the letter…Reminds me that I should text Kakashi, otherwise he will mistake your prints for the killers'…"

Tomoko reached for her phone, but she was stopped by Itachi who seized her hand and took the phone from her, "It can wait for now…I don't want you to focus on other men right now."

She allowed Itachi to do so without any resistance. It was the first time she had touched him properly, except for inevitable, occasional bumps. As if to test the waters, Tomoko moved a bit closer to Itachi. He felt her breath against his upper lip, the scent of gin and tonic still lingered there. It took him a while to notice that he was still grasping Tomoko's wrists.

Itachi released them, and in the height of toxic elation kissed her. It was a shy kiss with reluctance from both parts – is this okay, are they okay with this?

Tomoko tried not to think about it, she wrung her wrists free from his grasp to wrap them around his neck and run her fingers through Itachi's hair. It was much softer than she imagined, he tasted sweeter than she imagined. Her feelings were transcendent, they felt eternal.

How long were they kissing? Was it minutes or hours? Itachi didn't know and didn't care, every ounce of common sense was quieted by the alcohol that seemed to control his body.

It was Tomoko who pulled away to gasp for air.

"I'm…" she mumbled, getting up, "Good night," she said hastily and returned to her room, leaving Itachi with a feeling of emptiness. After seeing her leave his mind went blank and the dim room faded away.


End file.
